


There's Nothing Wrong with the Helicopter

by AnUnstoppableWarrior



Series: Severely Out of Context [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Bottom Michael, Fake AH Crew, It's GTA violence, M/M, erotic asphyxiation, then sex, though nothing is too detailed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5334917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnUnstoppableWarrior/pseuds/AnUnstoppableWarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not uncommon for them to pair up after missions. What <i>is</i> uncommon is for Gavin to not fuck up. It's also a huge turn on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Nothing Wrong with the Helicopter

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know anything about auto/erotic asphyxiation other than what I briefly looked up to write this, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. I feel like this is probably one of those practices that you'd only truly understand if you went through it personally.
> 
> Inspired by: [Cloudberry Kingdom Part 5](https://youtu.be/2WxZ0gF6boU?t=229)
> 
> You can always expect Gavin to say something interesting—
> 
> "Why'd you choke? Are you into that?"
> 
> —And for Michael to reply in kind:
> 
> "Yeah."

The explosion is spectacular and way too close, blasting them with heat. Michael laughs at the carnage and holds a hand on his head to keep his beanie on as he sprints alongside Gavin to the chopper. The sound of the blades drowns out the yelling of the police as they give chase, but Gavin's rocket had wounded their forces too greatly to give them a fighting chance.

 

Gavin steers them into the air and away from the scene of the heist a little too quickly, both of them high on adrenaline and the thrill of a good take. Michael hugs the bad of cash to his chest, a wide smile on his face as he sits in the back.

 

“You alright boi?” Gavin says, his voice clear as day through the heli's headset.

 

“A little roughed up but hangin' in there,” he says back, noticing that the cops are a little more ballsy than he gives them credit for. “Looks like the cops don't know when to give up,” he comments, securing the bag in a compartment.

 

“Show them a good time will you?”

 

“You know I always do.”

 

A 'good time' for them is Michael's minigun, pelting the police chopper with a spray of bullets until it blows up, the force of it rocking their chopper before Gavin straightens them out.

 

Another one takes its place but Michael quickly dispatches it, a grin on his face the entire time. This is their element, stealing from banks and killing cops. Michael doesn't feel more at home than when he's causing mass destruction with his boys.

 

The heat dies down, leaving Michael breathing heavily and clutching his gun. The adrenaline is still pumping through his veins, alighting his nerves.

 

The helicopter lands once Gavin deems them a safe distance away. Michael recognizes where they are immediately and raises a brow as Gavin hops out. Now that they can hear, Geoff's voice comes filtering through their earpieces.

 

“Michael, Gav, you two alright?”

 

“We're okay Geoff, just need to switch 'copters, ours is wrecked. We'll meet up with you guys in a bit,” Gavin says, standing on the rooftop and staring out over the city. Michael loves coming to the Maze Bank, but he feels like this is an unnecessary detour.

 

“Why are we—what the fuck is up with you?” Michael laughs shortly, watching Gavin silently take his earpiece out and turn it off. He marches up to Michael and for a second Michael thinks Gavin might strike him, the look in his eyes so intense, but he merely reaches for Michael's earpiece and yanks it out.

 

At this point he knows what Gavin's up to, but the fact that Gavin would be willing to do this surprises him. Ryan or Geoff, yeah, but Gavin? His boi just isn't like this.

 

Oftentimes they'll pair up after missions, to 'relieve stress,' as Geoff put it once. They've all done it with each other before, fucking off after a mission and returning to the pent house more worse for wear from each other than from the cops. It's something they all accept.

 

Michael himself could barely walk one day after a harrowing nighttime escape with Ryan filled with screams, blood, and their combined laughter. They'd made it to relative safety and hadn't bothered with pleasantries or foreplay, preferring it hard and fast against a wall in an alley. Michael would even go so far as to say that he hadn't been with Ryan but with Vagabond still, the mask Ryan hid behind when he was in 'work' mode.

 

But Gavin's by far one of the tamer members of their group, along with Jack and sometimes Ray, so his quiet and authoritative behavior is throwing Michael's expectations out the window.

 

“You okay boi?” He asks in loo of the obvious. It'd be a surprise to no one for him to ask outright if one of his boys wants to fuck, but he always acts differently around Gavin. Geoff or Ryan would have had him on his back by now. They like him to disobey and fight back, to hiss and spit and scream. He doesn't do that with Gav.

 

Instead of responding Gavin stares at him, his expression neutral but for the barest hints of smugness.

 

“Michael, my little Michael, we make a great team, hm?”

 

“Of course. Team Nice Dynamite, right boi?”

 

“Right.” Gavin's still standing close, and he reaches up to tug Michael's beanie off. Having recently had his hair cut—fuck having long hair for missions, Jack's right—his curls aren't as pronounced as Gavin had probably been hoping, especially with them having been squished all day.

 

Still, Gavin pockets his beanie and runs a hand through Michael's hair and down to his cheek. He pauses there before sliding further down to rest at the base of Michael's throat, feeling the heavy pulse of his pounding heart.

 

 _Holy shit,_ Michael thinks, remaining stock still. Gavin so rarely makes a first move, Michael doesn't want to ruin the moment with his stupid mouth.

 

“You alright there?” Michael whispers shakily.

 

“Never been better.”

 

At the slight upturn of Gavin's lips, Michael finally feels something break in him. He jumps at Gavin, seeing the Brit's eyes widen before they're falling to the ground, Michael straddling Gavin.

 

“Stop trying to be suave so we can fuck already,” Michael hisses, grinding down and meshing their groins together. Gavin winces at the sudden pressure but grins.

 

“All you had to do was ask Michael.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

They spend several minutes making out, idling grinding together. The ground hurts like a bitch where his knees are digging into it, but the heat in his belly makes up for it. His lips are already red from biting.

 

Michael will admit that watching Gavin _not_ fuck up the heist had been a major turn on. Michael's always had a hard on for authoritative types, and seeing Gavin fuck the police up had been like a wet dream. He'd shuddered in pleasure then and does it now, with Gavin smirking up at him.

 

The hand's still at the base of his throat, not apply pressure but acting more as a solid presence, and even a promise. Gavin will give him what he wants if he begs for it, and boy does the idea appeal to him.

 

Suddenly he feels too light, too vulnerable with his back to the world, so he hooks a leg around Gavin's and rolls them 'round till the ground is a solid weight beneath him and Gavin's a solid weight above. If Gavin's going to choke him, which is where this hot little scene seems to be heading, they're going to do it right. Although, what a way to fucking go. _Mass murderer choked to death while getting fucked in the ass._ A headline for the ages.

 

“Getting impatient love?” Gavin asks, stilling atop him. His hand, which had become dislodged from it's spot when they'd flipped, rests again at the base of his neck, a thumb rubbing small circles into his skin. Even the slightest bit of pressure makes Michael's heart beat faster and his jeans get tighter.

 

“What, me? Nah, you must be thinking of someone else. You know me, I have the patience of a Saint.”

 

“Hm.” Gavin hums, his expression frustratingly neutral. When the hell had Gavin learned to act like such a suave badass? Maybe from Geoff? “If that's true then I might not know you at all.”

 

Michael shallows, shivering at the feel of Gavin's grip tighten. “Well how do you know you've ever known me?”

 

Gavin grins. All Michael sees is shark. “I think I recall my boi liking _this_...” He says, shifting his weight to apply more pressure on both Michael's neck and groin. It's not enough to make him dizzy but he can feel his face getting redder and gasps.

 

And then all pressure is taken away and the moan that'd been building in his throat is instead let out as a whine of displeasure.

 

“Shut it. Strip.”

 

The command sends lightning through his veins and he obeys, sitting up and pulling off his leather jacket. He motions to toss it away but thinks twice and instead lays it out behind him. The cement won't be kind on his back. Next he lays back down and arches to pull his shirt over his head, because he knows that Gavin wants some kind of show, even if he doesn't know which kind. Him and Gavin have done this plenty of times before, but they've never done _this_. And anyway Ryan and Geoff are the only two who feel comfortable indulging him in his kink, but apparently Gavin is too, not that Michael's complaining.

 

Next he unbuttons his jeans and slides them down, kicking them away along with his shoes and socks, until he's left in just his boxers, shivering in the cold even though his blood feels on fire.

 

Gavin had been following his lead, but he'd kept his pants on, content to unbutton and unzip them. Now they come together again, Gavin fitting himself between Michael's legs instead of across them. He takes a moment to commit the sight to memory, like every time he shared a moment with one of his boys. Under the industrial lights Michael's pale skin nearly glows, and his fierce expression is contrasted by his soft and loving gaze.

 

More than turning him on, that look reassures him and throws his doubts out the window. Michael wouldn't give him bedroom eyes if he wasn't okay with this. When Gavin had approached Geoff about this, he'd done so knowing that something had gone wrong between him and Michael. Not in a bad way, but noticeably. There'd suddenly been something lacking in their personal relationship when before things had been smooth. And it'd stumped Gavin until an enlightening talk with Geoff.

 

His reservations about erotic asphyxiation had been that people die from it, even when taking care, but Geoff had quickly dispatched his fears.

 

_Do you want to choke him to death?_

 

_What? No! Of course not._

 

_Then don't._

 

Geoff had been kind enough to explain the basics of it, from what Michael had told him one time(he supposes that if you're into something that has a notable risk of death just to get off, you've probably researched it). Oxygen deprivation to the brain increases pleasure, there's really not much more to it.

 

Geoff had also told him that most deaths in those statistics were from people performing autoerotic asphyxiation, which is not what would happen between him and Michael if he chose to go through with it. Which he _would_ , of course, if it pleases his boi. There's not a lot he wouldn't do for his boyfriends. That whole, 'I'd kill for you,' sentimentality is taken quite literally between them all.

 

So with Michael looking fairly willing beneath him, he takes a deep breath and smiles.

 

“This is what you want, isn't it?”

 

Michael's smile falters a bit as he realizes the scope of how serious Gavin's being right now. It must be getting to him, and Michael understands. This is probably the first time he's ever had to choke someone he's being intimate with, though Michael won't make him. If Gavin's not comfortable with it, Michael can settle for normal sex. Just because asphyxiation helps, it doesn't mean he can't get off without it. Being with one of his boys is always enough.

 

“If you're not comfortable doing this, we don't have to,” he says. The mood's still there but it's muted now. Honestly they could go several ways from this moment. They could have sex the way Michael likes it, the way Gavin likes it, or not at all, and he'll be okay with either, if that's what Gavin wanted.

 

“Really? But I thought you liked it?”

 

“I do but I'm not gonna force it. If you don't want to do it that's fine, we can just have normal sex. It's not like I don't have to very willing boyfriends who'll give me that extra stimulation, ya' know? I've never asked more from you before and I won't now.”

 

Gavin smiles and leans down to kiss Michael, removing his hands from Michael's neck for now. “Alright.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Michael's in only his boxers, while Gavin had deigned to keep his jeans on. He grinds hard and slow against the half hard flesh beneath the fabric, leaning his head down to press his forehead on Michael's chest while hands grip tightly at his shoulders. He glances up. Michael's head is tilted back as he sighs and moans in pleasure, and Gavin can't help but lean forward and plant kisses right on the bobbing Adam's apple.

 

Micheal's pulse is fast and strong, something Gavin can feel easily under his lips. He sighs and pulls away, enough to look down at the flushed boy under him.

 

“Gav, we don't have all fucking night, we've wasted a lot of time already.”

 

“They have to know what we're doing,” Gavin says, and he's got a point. But Michael's point still stands.

 

“Which is why they're going to be pissed. We have the money, remember?”

 

“Oh yeah.” Gavin gets up and Michael groans, rubbing his hands down his face.

 

“Jesus Christ Gav.”

 

“What? I have to get the lube.”

 

All Michael does is sigh and roll his eyes. Gavin searches the compartments for the little bottle of lube one of them had stashed away. Yeah, this kind of thing happens that often.

 

When Gavin turns around it's to see Michael propped up on one arm, his boxers down enough so he can pump a hand over his dick. Gavin blushes despite the situation.

 

Michael smirks. “What, I can't jerk off to my boyfriend?”

 

“Not when he's about to fuck you.”

 

“Well maybe if he stopped taking so damn long to do something I wouldn't have to relieve myself, now would I?”

 

Gavin stomps over, his jaw set, and Michael raises a brow, unimpressed. Gavin slaps his hand away, replacing it with his own.

 

“Feisty huh?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Oh, Gavin, I like when you're all riled up. Why don't you get like this more often?” Gavin feels heat on his cheeks again and glares at Michael's easy smile. He slows but tightens his grip and Michael's breath hitches, but his smile turns into a smirk. Gavin throws the small tube of lube at him.

 

“Why don't you prepare yourself since you're in such a hurry?” He says coldly, and Michael acknowledges but is unaffected by his act of 'aloof-cool-guy-in-charge.'

 

“Alright you little pissbaby,” Michael says, poorly imitating his accent, making Gavin take a deep breath of exasperation. Michael pours lube over his fingers and quickly goes about preparing himself, keeping his gaze locked on Gavin's. Despite the whole, “in charge” thing Gavin's trying to go for, he won't ever have the nonexistent level of shame Michael's acquired throughout his life. That gives Michael the ability to smile while Gavin blushes. God, he can kill a man and laugh about it but he can't watch his boyfriend finger himself without feeling like a prepubescent boy watching a porno for the first time.

 

Gavin hadn't realized how hard he'd been until Michael grabs his jeans and boxers and yanks them down, making him protest. “Careful! These are good jeans...”

 

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael hooks one hand around the base of Gavin's neck to pull him into a kiss while the other one, the lubed one, wraps around his dick, stroking it whilst simultaneously applying the lube.

 

Michael bites his lips and glares at him, a clear challenge, and when he pulls away to lay down and wiggles his hips, a clear invitation, Gavin thinks he might take up that challenge.

 

He positions himself again between Michael's legs, using one hand to steady himself and the other to align his dick. He pushes in until it's just the tip inside, then waits, even when Michael nods at him.

 

They stare at each other for a solid thirty seconds before Michael bares his teeth in anger. “You son of a bitch.”

 

“I don't know what you're talking about Michael,” Gavin says cheekily, Now it's his turn to smirk. “Is something wrong?”

 

“Yes! Fucking _move_ already!”

 

“I don't know if I should listen to you when you're being a right prick.”

 

“Gavin. I'm always a prick.”

 

“Now might be a good time to learn some manners.”

 

“I swear to God I'm going to fucking murder you in your sleep if you don't move!”

 

“When you put it like that...”

 

Instead of another insult, Michael only responds with a moan and curse when Gavin pushes all the way in.

 

“Fuck...F-Fuck...”

 

“Satisfied?” Gavin glares, planting both hands besides Michael's head and looking down at him.

 

“I would be if your dick was bigger.” He laughs at his own joke.

 

“Funny. You have such a foul mouth, you know that?”

 

“Do something about it.”

 

They're staring at each other again, but this time Gavin's glaring and Michael's grinning. The thing is that it's not hard to get Ryan or Geoff riled up. Both are fairly expressive when it comes to emotions; anger, love, sadness, it doesn't matter. But Gavin might be the most heartless of them all. He just doesn't care about casualties. Michael doesn't either—it's kinda impossible in this line of work—but at least he'll make small talk with a cashier, Christ.

 

Michael had even hypothetically posed the question that if he were to get married, would Gavin be in the party, and the guy had said no. What an asshole, right?

 

Gavin drops his gaze first and says nothing as he starts thrusting. It's not as fast as Michael prefers, but it is hard. Hard enough that he can't catch his breath to talk so he abandons the conversation, noting absentmindedly that Gavin had indeed managed to shut him up.

 

“Nothing to say?” Gavin pants out, pausing his thrusting briefly. Michael looks up at him, a redness high on his cheeks.

 

“Actually yeah,” he says, reaching up to pull Gavin down for a rough kiss. “Shut up and fuck me, fuckface.”

 

Gavin smiles into the kiss and starts back up, and the top of the Maze Bank is filled with panting and moaning and cursing. Under the pleasure and love, Gavin's nervous. He knows he's enjoying himself, and clearly Michael is as well, but the choking thing is still in the back of his mind. As he separates from Michael to look down at him again, at his face and neck and chest, he feels like now is the moment to bring it up but he can't do it.

 

“Gavin.”

 

Gavin blinks and focuses on Michael. He hadn't realized he'd stopped moving.

 

“Sorry,” he says, blushing. Michael gives him a _look_ and runs his hands across Gavin's shoulders and down his arms, making him shiver.

 

“You don't have to.”

 

“But—you like it.”

 

“I can live without it, jeez.”

 

“Yeah, but...”

 

Michael's quiet for a few seconds, sighing as he shifts and Gavin moves inside him. He really wants to be pounded into and choked out like a bitch, but he'll hold himself back for Gavin's sake.

 

“Just do what feels right. You won't hear me complaining.” He moves again, smiling in triumph when Gavin takes a deep breath and starts thrusting again, faster than before.

 

“This is what you want?” Gavin says lowly, breathless. His pace is punishing as he moves his hands to grip at Michael's hips. “You want it rough you bitch?”  
  


“God, _yes..._ ”

 

“Shut up.” And Gavin does it before he can stop to really think about it. He slides one hand up the length of Michael's body to rest at his throat, squeezing just barely but it gets the desired reaction. Michael's whole body shudders, his legs clamp harder around Gavin's waist, and he tenses, which feels like _heaven_ for Gavin.

 

Feeling a little more bold from the positive reaction, he speeds up his thrusts and tightens his grip on both Michael's neck and hip. He has a moment of clarity through a haze of lust wherein he gazes almost hungrily at Michael's face, the way it scrunches up as he moans, the heat radiating from the body under him, the strong and quick beat of the pulse under his hand.

 

He feels close already, hotter and more breathless than ever before. Something about having this kind of power over someone, this ability to give someone so much pleasure, just the thought's enough to spur him towards orgasm. His grip on Michael's throat loosens for a second, allowing Michael enough breath to speak.

 

“G-Gav, God I'm so close...” Michael moans, sending shivers down his spine.

 

“Come on then,” he pants, leaning down to muffle his own moans in Michael's mouth. The action causes his front to rub against Michael's abdomen and dick, which is all the stimulation—coupled with the choking—to push the smaller lad over the edge. His moan is swallowed by Gavin, who gives a few more solid thrusts before coming himself.

 

He slumps afterward, resting most of his weight on a still breathless Michael. The two stay wrapped around each other for a few minutes before Michael starts pushing Gavin away from him.

 

“Come on, get up, I'm dirty and tired.”

 

Gavin pulls out, making both of them wince. He sits back on his heels and sighs, smiling at Michael's grumpy face. He tries to hide it when Michael looks at him, but he's not fast enough.

 

“What are you smiling at you prick?” Michael says, using his shirt to wipe the cum off his stomach and inner thighs. He pulls on his boxers and jeans, and zips his jacket over his bare chest before turning back to Gavin. “Hurry up.” He stands up and stretches before heading over to the helicopter.

 

“Michael?”

 

“Hm?” He turns, waiting on Gavin. The taller one's got his jeans buttoned up, his shirt hanging around his shoulders.

 

“That was good, right?”

 

Michael opens his mouth, closes his mouth, opens his mouth again, then smiles. “Yeah, it was good. Just try being less of a pussy the next time.”

 

“Oi!”

 

Michael laughs and they climb into the helicopter. Gavin grumbles to himself and Michael grins at him from the co-pilot's seat, before Gavin shoves his beanie back on his head. Gavin starts the chopper up and begins flying them towards the designated safe house. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Gavin speaks up.

 

“At least better than Ryan or Geoff right?”

 

“Fuck no. But nice try. You'll get there one day.”

 

Predictably, Geoff yells at them. They can't help but grin.


End file.
